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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115714">Sneaky</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elitebrokeme/pseuds/elitebrokeme'>elitebrokeme</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elite (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, fluff?, idk this is very random</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:34:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,734</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elitebrokeme/pseuds/elitebrokeme</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why is the kitchen a mess? And your clothes are all wet? Not that I complain about that, but…”</p><p>Carla looks down at her white blouse, made transparent by the water and revealing her black and lacy bra. </p><p>“Because I cooked.”</p><p>The look he gives her this time is a mixture of startlement and suspicion.</p><p>“You never cook.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carla Rosón Caleruega/Samuel García Domínguez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sneaky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It has been five years since her last year at Las Encinas, and at last Carla is happy. Of course, she is still sometimes plagued by nightmares, but the man she spends her nights with knows exactly what to do and what to say to chase them away. He cradles her in his arms, caresses her hair and kisses her forehead. Sometimes, Carla can’t believe how lucky she is to have found him again. She let him go once, and she doesn’t intend to let him slip through her fingers again. Today Carla has everything she could have dreamt of. It has been one year since she came back from the United States after finishing her MBA, and it didn’t take a long time to rekindle with Samuel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had seen each other since the day she left him. She bought him a ticket to visit her two years ago and from then began a long-distance relationship. It didn’t seem much to handle, considering everything they had been through. It was difficult at first, but nothing could compare to the joy she felt once she settled back in Madrid for good, ready to start new in the city where she had grown up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today, she has everything she ever wanted: someone who loves her deeply for who she is, the ownership of the wineries, and the blissful feeling that she has finally accomplished something by raising the revenues and benefits of the wineries legally like her parents never did before her. It’s fulfilling, and as she walks the streets to go home, she cannot stop grinning.  Carla can’t wait to celebrate with Samuel. She can already picture it in her mind: before he gets home, she is going to choose her favorite lingerie, put some champagne in the fridge and order food from their favorite Italian restaurant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carla is almost at the door of their apartment when she suddenly stops. She has this weird feeling that she is being followed. When she turns around, no one is here. Well, that is until she lowers her eyes and sees a puppy – which she identifies as a Westie – staring at her with big dark eyes. Her heart instantly melts and she kneels down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here alone, little one?” She asks softly, scratching his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dog is small and couldn’t be more than three months. His usual white fur is grey and muddy, all tangled.  He also looks famished and Carla’s heart breaks when she realizes he is shivering slightly. It’s January, and definitely not the time for a puppy to wander alone in the cold. It’s pretty obvious to her that this puppy doesn’t belong to anyone. As if his poor state wasn’t enough, there’s no collar around his neck, no tattoo in his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t seem okay,” Carla whispers, moving her hands to his back to provide him with some warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The puppy looks at her with his black, glowing eyes and turns to lick her hand. A giggle escapes her mouth, even though she’s aware that caressing an abandoned dog can be a bit dangerous because of the various diseases he could have. That was what her father used to tell her when at nine years old she knelt to pet cats and he’d scold her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes her less than five seconds to make a decision. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carla takes off her designer jacket and wraps the small dog in it. She smiles at how the puppy nuzzles against it and walks into her building.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>(...)</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Samuel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No response. Carla sighs in relief. He’s probably still at school, which gives her enough time. She gently places the puppy on the couch and pets his head. Picking up her laptop, she decides to Google what she can feed him. She can’t leave him alone in there and risk Samuel coming home before she had the time to come back. Carla bits her bottom lip, and types: <em>What homemade food can I give a puppy</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Carla’s eyes widen when she sees the difficulty of some recipes. Are the dogs receiving this type of meal supposed to be food critics? A sigh of defeat leaves her mouth, and she quickly heads to the kitchen. She almost cuts her hand while opening a can of green beans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She curses and steps back as water spills on the kitchen floor. Groaning, she takes a pan and tries to cook turkey escalope, fumbling with the complicated high technology baking tray. It is giving her a headache. She continuously curses in frustration until she feels something wet against her leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking down, she sees the still-unnamed puppy licking her ankle. The sight instantly calms her down, and she smiles in amusement as he tilts his head in her direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, you looked at me exactly like my boyfriend does when he wants something,” Carla says, and the dog barks happily in reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carla finally manages to make the baking tray work. About fifteen minutes later everything is ready. She hopes the puppy won’t be too judgy about her cooking skills – which are close to non-existent. A wave of pride and satisfaction settles in her heart when the Westie runs toward the bowls full of food, even if she realistically knows that a hungry dog would probably eat anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The food is gone in precisely seventeen seconds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now it’s time to give you a bath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As cute as the dog is, he also stinks. Carla wrinkles her nose as he squirms in her arms, trying to lick her face. She checks the temperature of the water and then puts the dog in the bathtub, telling herself that such a cute puppy wouldn’t cause too many problems.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not even five seconds after she sprayed the water on him, he shakes and her clothes are splashed with water – something she probably should have thought about beforehand. She doesn’t give up, not even as the dog continues to squirm and shake, clearly not used to water. Then again from what she knows, dogs hate water. From what she reads on the Internet, shampoo for humans can’t be used on dogs, so she decides water will be enough for now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s definitely enough to ruin her clothes and hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A happy giggle escapes her throat when she finally puts him on the bathroom floor. He shakes vehemently, ruining her blouse a bit more. Her grin widens when she rubs a towel against his back, and he happily wiggles his tail. He shakes again and she laughs when her face is splashed with drops of water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a sneaky one.” She smiles and kisses the top of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carla keeps on rubbing him, heart warms by the way he seems to be enjoying the towel. If he didn’t like bathing, he definitely enjoys the drying process. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sneaky would be a good name for you. If I called you Samu, I’m not sure my boyfriend would be very happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door of the apartment opens and closes. Carla jumps. Speak of the devil. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Carla?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Samuel is home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carla sprints towards the guest room with the newly named Sneaky and gently settles him on the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be quiet, all right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stares at the dog for a few seconds, who leans his head to the side in utter confusion. Carla quickly gets out of the guest room and closes the door behind herself, only to be met by Samuel. She jumps and her back hits the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carla? Are you… Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is concern gleaming in his brown eyes. Carla licks her bottom lip, heart hammering against her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah sure. How was your day?” She forces her smile a little, crossing her hands behind her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” he eyes her suspiciously, “why is the kitchen a mess? And your clothes are all wet? Not that I complain about that, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carla looks down at her white blouse, made transparent by the water and revealing her black and lacy bra. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I cooked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look he gives her this time is a mixture of startlement and suspicion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never cook.” There’s a wrinkle between his eyebrows. One Carla has always found adorable. One she knows means confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t,” he insists, “Are you okay? Do you have a fever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carla rolls her eyes and hits his shoulder. The gesture makes him laugh, and he wraps his arms around her waist, leaning in for a kiss. She hums in contentment, cupping his face with delight until he steps back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, where’s the food?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oops. Carla hesitates and decides to shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It didn’t look good, so I decided to throw it away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right. I’ll call the Italian restaurant and pick up the food. Does that sound good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carla cannot help the smile that creeps up on her features. It was her plan for the evening, after all, and it doesn’t surprise her in the slightest that Samuel had a similar idea. She tugs on his shirt, brings him closer to her body and kisses him again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sounds perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. I won’t be long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pecks her lips one more time and turns around. Carla sighs in relief, but it’s short-lived. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dog barks once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Samuel slowly turns around, eyebrows raised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you just... bark?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes”, she pauses, “I mean, no. It was my stomach. I’m hungry.” She blabbers, coughing with exaggeration to hide the noise of the dog who is now clawing against the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stares at her. She stares back without flinching, a smile plastered on her face. Samuel slowly shakes his head as he dials the restaurant’s number and leaves. Carla exhales loudly, rubbing her forehead. She still has no idea how she is going to bring up the dog to Samuel. They never talked about adopting a pet. It’s a lot of responsibilities, she knows it, but her office isn’t far from the apartment meaning she can come back for lunch to walk him. It is not completely unreasonable and Carla highly doubts she would have the heart to bring him to an animal shelter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carla glances around to make sure her boyfriend left and walks in the bedroom again. Sneaky immediately jumps on her legs, and she stumbles backward with a genuine laugh. Her laughter dies in her throat when she realizes the pillows are torn apart, feathers spread upon the bed. The dog is still playing with her innocently. How can she be mad, when he looks at her with adorable dark eyes while licking her hand?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To ensure he is not going to cause more troubles, Carla takes him into the bathroom with her while she takes a quick shower. He does not seem to mind and waits patiently for her to be done, even as she dresses up, forgetting about her initial plans of wearing her newest set of lingerie. She takes advantage of Samuel’s absence to clean the kitchen up and when it’s done, she goes back to the guest room, Sneaky trailing after her. They play together for a while until she hears the front door open again. The dog barks, and she shushes him quickly, running out of the guest room. Samuel isn’t far, taking off his jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were still in there?” He wriggles his eyebrows, “Don’t tell me a lover is hiding in the closet. Or under the bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carla rolls her eyes, amused, and throws her arms around his neck. She kisses his cheek tenderly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please. If I had one, I would have made him leave while you were picking up the food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nudges her nose with hers, and she chuckles softly, though it turns into a squeal when his fingers reach her sides, and he tickles her mercilessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right, stop, stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Samuel grins at her words and kisses her temple. He takes her hand, but before he can lead her to the couch, a loud noise makes them jump. It obviously comes from the guest room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both look at each other, pause, and… both run towards the guest room door. Samuel arrives one second before her, and she quickly puts her hand over his on the doorknob. He opens the door before she can utter a word and stops dead in his tracks when Sneaky jumps on him. Carla bites her lower lip, waiting for his reaction. She sees the way his eyes widen as realization hits him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You bought me a dog?” Samuel asks, a boyish grin spreading across his features.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kneels down, unable to grin, and for the tenth time today, Carla’s heart melts like snow under the Spanish sun. She watches as he runs his fingers through the little dog’s fur, and smiles when Sneaky jumps in his arms to lick his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, Carla. That’s amazing. But I thought you liked cats more?” He asks, still focused entirely on the puppy who is currently nuzzling his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, to be fair, I didn’t buy him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gives her a startled look and she doesn’t need to read his mind to know he’s kind of scared she is going to say they will have to give the dog back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I found him near the building, dirty and famished. I couldn’t leave him.” Carla explains, leaning in to rub Sneaky’s back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You saved him, then.” He looks at her carefully, hesitation clear on his features, “Do you… do you intend to bring him to a shelter tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carla smiles, closes the distance between them, and leaves a gentle kiss on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to keep him. I was hiding Sneaky from you because I was trying to find a way to ask you that. And I don’t love cats more. I love cats and dogs equally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sneaky, huh?” He smiles, brushing a hand against her cheek. “Maybe one day we can adopt a kitten to keep him company.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d love that.” Carla grins, already loving the idea of a cat in the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I love you.” Samuel says, caressing the skin beneath her shirt with two fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, because I brought a dog home?” She raises an eyebrow, amused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Samuel slowly shakes his head, intertwining his fingers with hers. He brings her hand to his mouth and lovingly kisses her knuckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you because you saw an abandoned puppy and didn’t even think twice before helping him. I love you because you are the best person I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words hit a weak spot, and she wonders if he is aware of it. He surely is. Since the day of Marina’s death, Carla has been persuaded that she wasn’t a good person, that she was someone who didn’t deserve empathy, love, or forgiveness. Samuel gave all that to her and more. So much more. Even after all these years, his words have the power to make her feel whole. They have the power to render her speechless. There is nothing she can say, no word to properly describe the love she feels for him or how grateful she is to have him in her life. So, instead of relying on words, she leans in and captures his lips with hers for a deep kiss, pouring all the sentences she cannot express into it. His hands move to her waist while his tongue dances with hers in a ballet they both mastered years ago. Samuel is slowly sliding his hand under her shirt when Sneaky barks again, stopping them both.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They look at the dog who seems to be jealous that he isn’t the center of attention anymore. Samuel chuckles, leans in again, but Carla is quick to push him away, taking Sneaky in her arms before standing up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this how it’s going to be from now on? The dog first, and then me?” He asks, grinning playfully while he follows her to the living room, so they can finally eat dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know Samuel, sometimes you aren’t as oblivious as I first thought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She teases, sticking her tongue out at him before dropping onto the couch, ignoring Samuel’s fake offense while he takes the food out of the bag for them. Tonight might not be what she initially planned for them, but as she looks at the dog happily jumping from the couch to follow Samuel, Carla doesn’t mind the slightest bit. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! I know this was kind of random and mainly Carla taking are of a dog... BUT WELL.<br/>I wanted to thank <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderss/pseuds/lavenderss">lavenderss</a> for checking the English in this! &lt;3<br/>You can find me on tumblr at<a href="https://dejemicorazon.tumblr.com/">dejemicorazon</a> where you can also send me prompts!</p><p>Also I know this can make me seem as someone who writes fluff only but........ I'll get to the painful stuff soon.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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